


a world apart

by interstellarbeams



Category: Aladdin (2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Incognito Jasmine, Light Angst, Unrequited Love, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-06-23 14:54:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19703677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/interstellarbeams/pseuds/interstellarbeams
Summary: What if Aladdin did keep the arranged meeting with Jasmine to return her hair brooch.





	a world apart

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks go to Katie for all her help despite not having any clue what happens in the live action movie. 
> 
> This was the first fic I started for our fave pair and it’s my take on Aladdin returning Jasmine’s hair brooch. It’s not canon so far as where they were supposed to meet but I think you’ll like it anyways. ;)
> 
> Kudos and comments are appreciated! <3

“It’s a gorgeous night,” he said as the moonlight shone down on her dark hair and seemed to mimic the reflection of the sparkling waves of the bay. 

Her gold and turquoise earrings danced against her slim neck as she turned her head in surprise, her mouth dropping open as her gaze landed on his. 

“How did you get in here?” She leaned over the edge of the terrace like she expected one of the carpenter-made ladders they sold down in the square to be anchored to the ground below. 

“I told you I would meet you tonight. Did you forget about this?” He slowly opened his hand to reveal his half of her hair brooch. “Plus, you saw me when we were running from the guards in the marketplace. I have no problem sneaking around or … getting into places where I’m not _technically_ supposed to be.” 

He grinned at her and, despite her continued state of shock with her mouth gaping like a fish caught on the shore, she was beautiful to him. So beautiful he found it hard to breathe when he looked at her. 

She finally closed her mouth and crossed her arms, lifting one eyebrow in challenge. Aladdin felt his heart sink. Apparently his flirty theft of her hairpin hadn’t been quite as smooth as he had thought. He could still feel the softness of her hair under his fingers when he had brushed it back from her face the night before, but apparently she hadn’t been as affected as he had been.

He stepped to the table in the center of the room, the flowers that overflowed the bowl on the table perfuming the air with a sweetness similar to her perfume. He placed the brooch on the inlaid tabletop, the pearlescent surface shining almost as beautifully as the stars in her eyes. 

He swallowed hard, surprised to feel tears prick his eyes as he crossed the floor. He had thought that they had a connection. She had cared enough to listen to him talk about his parents and how he felt trapped back at his home. She had understood him better than anyone ever had since his parents had passed away and he had found himself homeless and bereft. _She was just being polite, Aladdin_ , he thought, wanting to kick himself for letting a mere friendly conversation draw him into her orbit. 

He planned to open the door and make himself scarce, but then her voice filtered across the room and ensnared him like a snake charmer’s tune. 

“Where are you going?” came her high-cultured voice, her baboosh, or slippers, barely making a noise as she crossed the expensive rug and picked up the brooch off the table.

“I — _well_ , I guess I was gonna go find Abu. It’s getting late and he has an early bedtime. He gets really grumpy if he doesn’t get his beauty sleep.”

She snickered, a small hand coming to cover her mouth at the inappropriate sound, but it made his heart race to hear her laughing at one of his jokes, as lame as it was. 

“Thank you,” she spoke as she came closer, “for my mother’s bracelet and for bringing this back.”

“You’re welcome. I really wouldn’t want to break up the set.” Hope that maybe she hadn’t dismissed him as easily as he had allowed himself to believe unfurled in his chest like a lotus blossom in the blue-tiled fountain he had noticed on his way to meet her.

She rolled her eyes playfully, another thing that he would have to get used to. The women he usually saw in his daily treks through the city were wide-eyed with wonder at the grandeur of the large city or dark-eyed with sleep loss from the constant work, worry and the attempts to feed the gnawings of small, hungry bellies. 

A door slammed down the hall, tramping feet following loudly behind, and he reached out a hand, snatching her around a corner of the intricate privacy screen in the corner. Her wide brown eyes watched him and he had to tamp down a sneaking suspicion that she was afraid of him taking advantage of her. He wasn’t that type of man, no matter what highbred women usually thought of lowborn men like him. He had a conscience … even if he didn’t always listen to it. 

He released her hand when the palace guards passed by the door, the crash and clang of weapons and armor replaced by a tranquil quiet, and stepped back out of her personal space. She frowned as she watched him, but he thought it was best to put some space between them.

“How did you get out of attending the princess tonight?” he asked as he walked around the edge of the screen and out into the open, airy room. The heat of a brazier warmed the interior against the chill of the wind blowing in off the ocean, the rustling of the leaves of the potted plants a soft rustle in the background. 

“She’s on a walk around the gardens. She wanted to be alone to think. She has a lot to mull over after the parade of suitors that have paid her court over the past few months.” 

“Will she marry one of them, do you think?” He paced to a cushioned bench, his hands clasped behind his back like he had seen the wealthy merchants do.

“No,” she spoke rather forcefully, her earrings dancing. “I mean — probably _not_. No one has really impressed her, despite her father and Jafar’s continued attempts to pressure her to make a match. It’s not like we don’t have more pressing matters to deal with.”

“You must be a very good friend to her if she tells you all of these things.” 

“She tr — _I_ try very hard to be everything that the princess needs me to be.” She smiled, but the trembling at the corner of her lips wasn’t from laughter and he wondered what she was holding back. 

He was not one to pry because, when you have a difficult past like he did, you learn not to ask and never divulge much. It usually only serves to make people feel uncomfortable or pity you, which he did not need any more of, _thank you very much_. He had received enough from his mother’s sisters, who had given him many pitying looks but had never looked upon him with charity, their callousness toward him was what had led him to a life on the streets. He tried not to let himself be bitter over the life that he led, but it was hard sometimes. 

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his vest and pushed the negative thoughts away, struggling to think of something to say to keep the conversation going and extend his time in her presence. 

“So … uh, how often do you get to sneak away to see the sights?”

“Sights?” She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, the rings on her fingers catching the light, a shine that would have started an itch in Abu’s greedy digits.

“You know, the squares and bazaars, the ocean that is mere steps from the palace doors.”

“I’ve never been to the ocean,” she admitted, shifting her eyes from his face to beyond his shoulder.

“Really? You’ve never seen the ocean before?”

“Of course I’ve seen it!” she snapped, “from the palace windows and my balcony but, _no_ ,” her voice softened with regret, “I've never been to the ocean.”

He was surprised. He had always thought that to be privileged meant you could do whatever you wanted, _go_ wherever you wanted. But twice now she had told him how little freedom she actually had. 

Maybe being poor, wasn’t the worst thing there was. At least he could walk the city streets, stroll to the water and feel the salty breeze on his skin, even go out into the desolate desert if he so chose, which he didn’t. The desert sands were for the bedouins and murderous bandits, not for opportunistic youths like him. 

“Well, come on then.” He reached for her hand and pulled her across the room toward the large and _very_ gold double doors.

“ _But …_ ” she sputtered and he stopped, turning back toward her.

“What’s the matter?” he asked. Surely she wasn’t afraid to go with him. She knew him, at least a little bit, but maybe he was asking too much of her. To trust him again despite his failure to be someone she could trust when they first met, although that was Abu’s fault, his quick fingers and love of anything shiny catching up to him.

“I — well, I have to stay here. What if the princess needs me?” She made an excuse, dropping her hand to her wrist and rubbing a thumb along the gold bangle that rested there. He ducked his head when she lifted her eyes to his. He didn’t want to be caught staring. How awkward would that be?

He pushed his hair back across his forehead, before glancing back at her.

“You’ve never seen the ocean, but you’re gonna let an excuse keep you from seeing it for the first time. I thought you were braver than that.”

“Excuse _you_ ,” she snatched her arm from his hold, “but you don’t know me, so don’t you dare assume things about me. Besides there’s no way we’ll get past the guards going that way. Follow me.” She turned on her heel and he watched her waterfall of hair sway against her back as she led him to a corner of the room that he hadn’t paid any particular attention to. It looked like an ordinary wall to him, with a burning candle sitting on a sconce above their heads. 

But the candle didn’t burn steady. It flickered every once in awhile, like a draft was catching at it. Aladdin turned his head to see Dalia, a firmly planted smirk lifting the corner of her lips as she pulled against the intricate tassels hanging from the sconce and the wall creaked as it opened to reveal a shadowed, hidden stairway that curved out of sight.

“You’re right. This way is much better … and _creepier_ ,” he added, swiping at a cobweb that stuck to his face as he followed her into the shadows.

————

The streets were quieter than usual as they walked from the center of the walled palace toward the docks. The sounds of cheering and singing, muffled by the soft ground yet amplified by the walled courtyards, radiated down the alleyways from squares lit by flickering firelight, but Aladdin didn’t stop. 

He kept a secure arm around Dalia’s waist as they continued to walk the maze of city streets. He knew them all by heart, but he didn’t completely trust the dark corners of some of the alleyways where deep voices murmured and the strong scent of opium filled the air. 

He hurried her along, barely giving her a chance to protest as he moved them down the next street and then the next.

“Why are you in such a rush?” she asked breathlessly, her steps following his quickly, but she was clearly not used to such a hasty stride.

“It’s not entirely safe in some of these places. The quicker we get through them, the better. Plus, opium dens are not somewhere you want to be, especially a woman like you.”

“Why does that matter?”

“Well, I would hate to return you to the princess’ service when you aren’t at your best.” He figured she had led a sheltered life, but the way she frowned in confusion made him wonder if she was more innocent than he had originally thought. 

“Trust me. Even the scent of opium can do funny things to your head. I’ve experienced it and it’s not pleasant.”

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, her grip tightening on her skirts as if she expected a drug lord to pop up and drag her into his den. He squeezed her waist quickly before turning his head to catch her eye.

“It’s OK. I’ve got you.”

“How did you end up there?” she asked, concern coloring her voice. 

“It wasn’t on purpose. I was young when I first found myself on the streets. I needed somewhere to stay, a roof over my head and food in my belly. I didn’t know any better, but thankfully someone came along and realized that I needed help and they got me out of that opium den. I — I’m grateful that I didn’t end up there. I probably wouldn’t be alive now if it wasn’t for my friend.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to — ” She stopped talking when he lifted his hand.

“It’s fine. You didn’t have any way of knowing. And it was a long time ago. Now come on. We’d better hurry if we’re to get you back to the princess on schedule.” He reached for her hand and after a moment’s hesitation her fingers tightened around his. 

Aladdin was sure that he had never experienced a feeling so thrilling in his life. Not even the adrenaline rush he felt whenever he stole, could compare with the unexpected warmth that flowed through him at the touch of her soft skin to his.

He only had the chance to take a few steps down the next street, Dalia’s hand still clutched in his, when the rumble of wagon wheels registered in his ears. The wagon driver yelled out a warning and Aladdin yanked her into a narrow doorway, the edge of his cap snatched by a gust of wind put off by the passing of the heavy vehicle.

The narrow doorway was more like a niche and he found himself pressed up against her, the intoxicating scent of her perfume floating up around them as he flattened himself against her unmistakably expensive dress and veil. 

Obviously she had been a standout in the marketplace among the poorly dressed servants and heavily veiled and overly scented streetwalkers, but to be _this_ close to her … he was afraid she could feel the rapid beat of his heart through the scant layer of clothing between them. The attraction that had thrummed between them on their first meeting was multiplying with the closeness of their bodies and Aladdin forgot what had even led them to be so intimately entwined together. 

He couldn’t see her eyes in the shadows, but she moved her head infinitesimally and the edge of her veil brushed against his cheek. 

He had managed to get both hands around her waist when he had pushed her out of the way of the wagon and the silken fabric under his hands was more expensive than anything he owned or “borrowed,” but he couldn’t bring himself to care about the difference in their stations in that moment, not with her soft breath puffing against his cheek. 

“I think he’s gone,” she spoke, startling him. He jumped, snatching his hands away from her. He took a step backwards, almost tripping over the small stoop that led into the niche, in surprise.

“Um, yeah, of course.” He cleared his throat unnecessarily loud, cursing himself for a fool. “Sorry, um — sorry about that.” 

She looked at him strangely and he realized she must think he was apologizing about the wagon almost running them over instead of the inappropriate way he had clung to her in his haste to get her to safety. 

“I meant, for, you know — I kinda crushed you in there.” He motioned toward the doorway behind her. “Sorry about _that_.”

“ _Oh_ , well, of course you couldn’t control that man with his wagon. There really should be a rule about these types of things.”

“Of course. I’m sure if you took it up with the princess she could say something to the sultan on your behalf.”

“Yes, I’m certain she would.” She watched him for a few moments, rubbing the edge of her veil between two fingers, and he wondered what she was thinking as she looked at him before she dropped to a crouch, surprising him again.

“Uh, what are you — ?” He barely got out the question when she stood back up, brushing off his cap and handing it to him. 

“Oh, thank you.” He brushed at it with one hand but the dirt seemed ingrained in the material. He pressed his fist inside, straightening out the top, which had apparently either been crumpled by the wagon or his own clumsy foot. 

She turned her head, glancing up and down the deserted street as if she expected another wagon to come careening down and flatten them like the laffa bread that can be found on any corner of the Agrabahian streets.

“It’s usually not this crazy at this time of night. It’s unusual. Most of the merchants close up shop and go home to their families … but this, it’s like a celebration.” Aladdin shoved his hands into his vest as he turned his head toward the sound of jubilant laughter. 

“They think their princess will marry soon and that _he_ will take control of the city from Jafar because their sultan is too weak to make a stand.” She scoffed, brushing at a strand of hair that had fallen from under her veil. “But they don’t know just how foolish these _suitors_ are. Flashing their jewel-bedecked hands and smarmy smiles my way, as if I care a whit for their gold. It’s too bad they couldn’t use that excessive wealth to buy a better education. Instead they rely on their looks and their money to impress when we look beyond that.” 

Aladdin was confused. He hadn’t heard of any suitors for the handmaidens of the princess, though she was clearly high-born, with wealthy parentage and a pristine reputation to boot. But valuable enough to have wealthy suitors … much less princes? He really was out of his league. 

The fact that she was out here with him, at night, probably wasn’t doing her reputation any favors, but as long as they didn’t get caught, it wouldn’t be a big deal, right?

“In all of the talk around the city, I have never once heard anyone speak of you … especially not marriage rumors … the gossip from the palace is always talked about in the marketplace.” 

“I — I’m sure it’s fairly new _news_ ,” she scoffed and tried playing it off.

Aladdin was confused, but the ringing of a ship’s bell denoting the hour distracted him and he reached for her hand again, leading her down the next street that ended at the docks.

————

“Wow,” her voice softened dramatically, “ _this_ — this is more beautiful than I ever dreamed it would be … and the sound. It’s so calming.” 

She turned his way, the moonlight illuminating one side of her face while the other rested in shadow, but she still looked exquisite to him. He was surprised that she hadn’t balked when they reached the docks and the strong scent of rotting fish had assaulted their senses. She hadn’t even covered her nose with her hand or a fold of her veil, just followed him along the creaking boards and around large coils of ropes as they made their way past the ships at anchor.

The water lapped at the pilings and the stench of tar hung around them, but the night sky was filled with stars, glimmering like the jewels sewn into her veil that reflected back the moonlight, like the sky as it went onward to the horizon. 

The silence lengthened between them and Aladdin felt awkward, struggling to come up with something else to say that wouldn’t make him seem like the uneducated street rat that he was. 

“I, uh — I’m sorry about Abu. I swear, I didn’t want him to steal your mother’s bracelet. He’s incorrigible, really.”

“Speaking of Abu, where is he tonight? He never seems to be too far from you.”

“Oh, uh — well, I can’t tell you that.” He cringed as he watched a myriad of emotions cross her face.

“You mean he’s … _stealing_?” she whispered, looking around furtively as if she expected Abu to appear, his arms loaded with stolen loot. “Without you?”

Aladdin felt his heart sink and he turned away, pressing one hand against his hip as he stared out over the waves, barely seeing what was laid out in front of him.

“ _Oh_ , I didn’t mean … I’m really sorry. I would never mean to insult you. I was just — it was the first thing that came to mind. I spoke without thinking. Forgive me.” She touched his arm softly, fingers light as the coo of a dove. 

The night was quiet, the normal raucous of the day — shouting sailors, strutting, perfumed merchants and pirates, ears gleaming with more stolen gold than filled the city’s richest concubines’ coffers — replaced by the soft splashing of the water against the ships and the flapping of banners overhead denoting the ships country of origin. 

“Are you OK?” she finally asked, concern knitting her eyebrows together.

“I’m fine. I guess I should be used to being misunderstood. I’ve experienced it my whole life.”

She was quiet and he felt guilty for taking everything she said so personally. He had never realized how affected he was by his circumstances until now. The obvious chip on his shoulder was causing trouble between them and he hated it.

“I don’t steal because I get a thrill out of it or because I make profit off of what I steal. When I started living on the streets, I had to steal or starve.”

“I — I’m sorry. I can’t say that I know what you’ve been through, but I can apologize for misunderstanding you. I shouldn’t have judged you so harshly.” 

“No, _no_. I should be the one apologizing for letting what you said affect me. I _am_ a thief. That’s the truth. I can’t claim to be more than I am.” 

“But, you’re wrong. You are more than that. You cared enough about a strange girl to bring her back her mother’s bracelet and to welcome her into your home so she could hide from the men that were after her. You aren’t just a thief, and I’m not just a princess’s handmaiden.”

Aladdin dropped his head, running his fingers through the back of his hair, suddenly embarrassed that she has become so complementary. If he listed all the things he admired about her, they would be there all night and probably most of the next day. 

He lifted his head, clearing his throat as he turned back to her.

“Thank you. I mean — thank _you_ for saying that. You know, you didn’t have to.”

“Of course I did. I admire you. I do.” She smiled, one corner of her mouth lifting as she turned her head at the sound of a splash, probably someone emptying a bucket of slop off the side of one of the ships.

Aladdin’s heart felt like it leapt in his chest at her admission and he pressed a hand to it, the embroidery on his shirt rough under his palm. He didn’t know what to do with himself. He was out here, on a beautiful night, the most gorgeous woman at his side … life literally couldn’t be better. 

She clasped her hands together in front of her and glanced down at her fingers, the silence between them stretching until it verged on awkward.

“Are you hungry?” he finally blurted out, kicking himself for startling her when she jerked her head up at his outburst. The beads hanging from her veil glimmered as she moved her head and he found himself mesmerized by her again. 

The silence stretched again and he searched, in his jumbled thoughts, for something to say that wouldn’t make him feel even more idiotic.

“I mean, I know this guy and well, he basically makes the best kebabs in the city.” He shoved his hands into his pockets, wondering when he was going to get over being enthralled in her presence. Probably never. He was cursed to be a fumbling buffoon in front of the most compassionate and beautiful woman in Agrabah. 

She gave him an odd look, cocking her head to the side and fiddling with the ring on her finger. _Did she not eat meat or was he being too self-conscious again?_

“I mean — we don’t, uh, have to if you don’t want to. We can go back to the palace right now if you want. It’s just — I’m kind of hungry so I thought you might be, _too_.” 

He felt like an idiot for babbling, but her closeness was making him nervous and when he was nervous he talked a lot. 

Aladdin scratched behind his ear, snatching his hand down quickly when an image of Abu scratching his fleas came to mind. He might be a street rat but he washed himself, thank you very much. 

“You eat at this time of night?” Dalia asked, pulling her veil that had slipped to her shoulders back over her head.

“Well, _yeah_ , I don’t often get a chance for a meal. Fareed has been like a grandfather to me and he lets me come by and eat whenever I get a chance. He doesn’t make me pay.” Aladdin shrugged his shoulders, kicking himself for admitting his monetary lack. _Women are always impressed by penniless men_ , he thought sarcastically to himself. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever eaten a kebab,” Dalia admitted thoughtfully as she looked up at the moon.

“ _Never_? Not even when you were growing up?” 

“Of course not,” she shrugged, looking back at him like he had lost his mind.

“You aren’t really a handmaiden, are you?” Aladdin asked, surprised he hadn’t caught on before.

“What? Of course I _am_. Why would you ask that?” she asked, twisting her veil between two fingers and refusing to look him in the eyes.

“You can’t be.” Everything suddenly clicked in his mind and he couldn’t help but keep going. “That dress is way too expensive, even for a courtier. You say that you’re being courted by a prince. Only _princesses_ have princes court them. Any other rank would be beneath them and not worth their countries and delegates. You’ve never eaten a kebab, which come on, most people enjoy on the streets every once in awhile.” All the evidence started to pile up in his mind and he couldn’t deny it.

“Why did you lie to me?” he asked, his heart sinking into his stomach as he stared at her. 

_Had she been toying with him this entire time?_

She looked crushed for a moment and he hated that he had brought that dejected expression to her face, but he felt like a fool. “That woman in your quarters last night. That was Dalia, wasn’t it? No wonder she acted so weird. I thought maybe the isolation had made the princess act strangely.”

She dropped her hands down to her sides, the abrupt motion making the gold tassels on her veil tremble. She opened and closed her mouth a few times and Aladdin prayed that she wouldn’t lie to him again. He wasn’t sure that he could take it. 

Not from this woman that he felt for, a woman he might even love and she was a _princess_ — Agrabah’s princess.

“I’m sorry,” she confessed on a burst of blown-out air. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to lie to you. I didn’t think I would ever see you again and — ” she trailed off as he continued to watch her, disappointment still curdling his stomach despite her apologies. 

“I thought that you felt our connection, too,” he paced, hands on his hips as he kicked at a lone pebble on the wooden dock, sending it into the ocean with a splash. 

“I did. I _do_.” She stepped closer and he surprised himself by standing his ground despite the abrupt movement. 

She touched his arm, her small hand warm despite the chill of the air blowing in off the ocean, and he barely contained the gasp that tried to escape at the shock of her touch. 

“I’m sorry, Aladdin. I am. I’m not supposed to leave the palace so I sneak out occasionally. Nothing like _that_ had ever happened before. I wasn’t expecting to be accused of thievery and chased through the streets. You helped me. I can’t ever forget that.”

He bent his head, looking down toward his feet, but all he could see was the luxury of her red and gold skirt before his eyes. He felt even more inadequate suddenly and he hated himself. _Why did she have to be a princess?_ floated through his thoughts, but he quashed it. 

“It’s Jasmine,” she spoke again, like she had read his last thought and he lifted his head to look back at her. “My name is Jasmine, not Dalia.”

“Jasmine?” He couldn’t help but be dazzled by the white smile that crossed her lips as she nodded her head. 

“It’s a beautiful name,” he swallowed hard before allowing himself to say the next thing that popped into his head, the fact that she was royalty and he a commoner suddenly unimportant. “But not as beautiful as you.” 

She turned her head and he felt let down, her smile was no longer aimed his way and he missed it. 

He stepped back, his self confidence plummeting again, “But I — um, I’m sure you hear that all the time.” 

“As a matter of fact, I do,” she replied. “I get tired of hearing it, to be honest. It’s the only thing anyone admires about me.”

Aladdin scoffed and she turned back to glance at him, her eyebrows knitted darkly. “I mean — of course that isn’t the only important thing about you. You’re kind and, and giving, so so smart and you can play music. And your manners, well, they’re superb … leagues beyond my own, I should mention.”

She laughed suddenly and he smiled back, the tension of the earlier moments breaking as they stood there smiling at each other, the quiet city sleeping around them. 

“Aladdin, I — ”

He licked his lips, the tang of the salty air sharp on his tongue, but she didn’t continue. He felt a sudden change in her attitude and he felt his stomach drop again at the regret and the tears he saw trembling on the edges of her lashes.  
“I’m sorry. I wish that things could be different.”

He wanted to speak, to beg her to reconsider but he knew she had no choice. She was a princess and a princess must always marry a prince. Aladdin was the furthest from a prince that she could get no matter her feelings or his for that matter. 

He stepped back but no amount of distance could separate him from the pain of what he already knew in his heart, that he loved her but he could never have her. 

“Come on,” he spoke quietly. “I’ll take you back to the palace.”

————

The night was split by the howling of wild dogs that roamed the fringes where the desert and the city met, but Aladdin barely heard them. All his attention was focused on the woman who walked beside him. He wished he had one more moment with her by the ocean with the moonlight shining down on her hair to stick in his memory, but wishing wouldn’t change the reality of the lives they lived.

They came to the edge of the palace wall where the secret corridor led out into the city and stopped.

She sighed quietly and he felt the same feeling of disappointment and sadness pulling at him as he looked at her for the last time. 

It was dark in the shadow of the wall, but he didn’t feel like he needed the light to see her. She was emblazoned in his mind like a foreign icon he had once seen for sale in one of the bazaar stalls.

He reached forward, the softness of her hair against his fingers attempting to break him, but he pulled himself together as he tucked her hair back behind her ear. He wished that he could kiss her, but even he wasn’t crazy enough to try to kiss a princess. 

“Goodnight, _Princess_.” 

Her goodnight was soft and sad as he turned to walk away.


End file.
